


Lame

by CommodoreToad



Category: Big Time Rush (TV)
Genre: 90s music, Coming Out, Culture Shock, Drabbles, F/F, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Friendship is Magic, Hockey, M/M, Multi, Natural Disasters, Polyamory, Therapy, boybanding, hostess snack cakes, intense friendship, keanu reeves impressions, lucky combs, one shots, outdated pop culture references, space
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-04
Updated: 2017-03-04
Packaged: 2018-09-28 06:54:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10078469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CommodoreToad/pseuds/CommodoreToad
Summary: "You took a dodge ball in the face for me.""You used me as a shield!"





	

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing****

******Summary: **A bunch of mostly Logan-centric one-shots interspersed between a three volume BTR origin story.****** **

**********A/N: **ID even K. Slash, het, Kung Fu, space travel, second person p.o.v.s, demigods, and sweet, sweet, smoothies. Woefully unedited.****** ** ** **

************ ** ** ** **

************ ** ** ** **

************ ** ** ** **

**************Summary: **He might actually die today.**** ** ** ** ** ** **

**************** ** ** ** ** ** **

**************** ** ** ** ** ** **

****************I.  
Dark Ages** ** ** ** ** ** ** **

**************** ** ** ** ** ** **

******************October, 2009 **  
**♣ ************** ** ** ** ** ** **

************************At first, he isn’t sure how not to hate it.** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** **

************************He can’t dance. He can’t sing. He’s fairly certain the fat man is going to decapitate him and adorn the space above the fireplace in his ridiculous condo with his head while the likes of P.Diddy and assorted members of Boy Quake sip their brandies and study him like art. He of track suit and gold chain seems to grow wider and stronger on a steady diet of tears and humiliation, and thanks to Logan ’s photographic memory the furious quivering of his terrible jowls plays on a loop in his brain at bedtime. The horror of this image makes sleep impossible, subsequently ensuing all manner of flailing, dance floor tragedy that explodes in cartoonish-if-it-weren’t-so-terrifying anger featuring airborne saliva and slightly racist rhetorical questions (“How can you fail at White boy dancing, when you’re white?”) that segue ways neatly into a close up of aforementioned terrible, furious, quivering jowls.** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** **

************************This cycle repeats itself until the day the hue of Gustavo’s pugnacious cheek turns a previously unseen shade of terror alert purple and Logan catches a glimpse of the fiery hell all members of failed boy bands fall into. (He’d always imagined it would resemble Dante’s hell, but with every member of the Mickey Mouse club not named Britney, Christina or Justin) Whilst expertly butchering a half spin move, Logan nearly takes himself out on the bar at the back of the room, leaving Gustavo a nice little space in which to advance upon him like an Uruk-hai chieftain who’s just spotted a delicious, jewelry-carrying Halfling. True to form Logan scrambles up against the mirror and makes himself smaller, trying to mentally distance himself from his appendages in the event that one of them is snapped off in the next four to five seconds. The remainder of Gustavo’s face is a volcanic red, stuffed with unmanifest bellowing and self-esteem crushing mini tangents therein as he lumbers forward, sucking in air Logan likes to think he can actually feel whipping across his face.** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** **

************************He’s certain the amount of rage is directionally proportional to the number of times he manages to indignify this little half spin that’s easy for everyone not named Logan, and that that correlates to the frequency in which any part of his body comes into contact with the satanic bar at the back of the room.** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** **

************************All of this, when mixed together, means he might actually die today.** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** **

************************This explains the vastly uncool “meeps” of terror emanating from his mouth before he slaps both hands against it and burrows into the mirror. At the outstretched index finger, adorned with bling, quaking with rage, his brain begins overproducing lengthy, heartfelt apologies ending in “your grace” and very sincere sounding reassurances that women find his specific type of male pattern baldness extremely attractive. Before he can choose a method of survival however, Gustavo’s barreling down on him screaming what doesn’t actually appear to be English and Logan ’s brain-in the midst of debating whether kissing the edge of one gigantic Converse sneaker while begging for his life would be too much-reverts to that of a small, pre-historic land mammal being attacked by a mammoth.** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** **

************************So caught up in the very sudden idea of no longer being alive is he that for a moment, he almost forgets about the insanely predictable nature of his life.** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** **

************************“Dude.”** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** **

************************At the slightly scratchy inflection, all eyes swivel toward the upper left hand corner of the room.** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** **

************************Kendall ’s kind of magnetic like that.** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** **

************************The boy raises one eyebrow then the other, the effect of which is a confused muppet being gradually enlightened.** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** **

************************The room’s predominant sounds are Boy Quake and Gustavo’s labored breathing that might as well being tickling Logan ’s hair. Sweat runs mini marathons down Gustavo’s face as he stares into the serene expression of the boy across the room.** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** **

************************The silence grows. Gustavo’s face begins to simmer.** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** **

************************Kendall glances at the ceiling.** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** **

************************“What?” Gustavo shouts.** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** **

************************Kendall smiles slightly, holding up one finger as though about to bestow upon the room some ancient wisdom and rocks back on his heels in barely contained delight; quiet as though he’s been waiting forever for this very moment.** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** **

************************“Chill out man.”** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** **

**************************** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** **


End file.
